


I Put a Spell on You

by myxstorie



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-08
Updated: 2006-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myxstorie/pseuds/myxstorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love triangles are never an easy thing to work out, but rarely do they go so horribly wrong... (Warning for dub-con, potentially trigger-y)</p><p>For ayumwu for <a href="http://je-holiday.livejournal.com/">je_holiday'08</a>, originally <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/je_holiday/26507.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Put a Spell on You

Kame stuck out his bottom lip and puffed out his breath, the air making the few strands of hair that had escaped from his ponytail dance around his face briefly before falling still again, the ends tickling his cheeks. Raising one arm, he wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead with the bottom of one rolled up shirt sleeve and sank down onto his knees, folding his legs underneath himself on the hard floor. Momentarily, he regretted volunteering to drag all his grandmother's old boxes of trinkets and ornaments - that she no longer wanted to look at, but couldn't _possibly_ throw away - up into the loft, but immediately felt bad for thinking such a thing. She had been nothing but wonderful to him all his life, and her door was open at all hours should he want a cup of tea and a shoulder to whine on about the difficulties of being a rich, famous Johnny's idol, and it was the least he could do now that his grandfather was no longer with them.

The attic was dry and stuffy; Kame could see the dust particles floating around in the air, highlighted by the slim beam of sunlight that the tiny skylight allowed in. Rubbing his nose against the slight itch that the thought of breathing in the dust brought on, the youngest KAT-TUN member sighed, tipping his head back to gaze up at the sliver of sky he could see through the little window.

It was a beautifully clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and Kame leaned back further on his hands, allowing the sun to bathe his face.

Sunlight reminded him of Jin. The brightness, blinding if you looked directly at it for too long, but so beautiful that it was impossible _not_ to look, the warmth, soothing, calming as it cleanses the skin, filling him with a tingling heat that could hurt after too long, but kept him coming back. The laughter that came with the children who played out in the sun, tinkling and joyful, lifting Kame's heart, making him forget for a moment that he was an idol, that he had to be constantly aware of his surroundings and just let him be, let him smile and float away, carefree if only for a second.

Kame sighed. Everything reminded him of Jin in some way. The moon, the way it shone so brilliantly no matter what, the birds, their song so melodic and uninhibited, the wind, how it would blow where it pleased irrespective of anyone who tried to get in its way, the ocean, the stars, the clouds... Everywhere Kame looked, there was something to make him think of Jin, to dig up some age-old memory from their junior days, when Jin actually spoke to him out of choice, when he would grin at Kame in that goofy way of his, all teeth and shining eyes, how he would tug on Kame's arm, dragging him off to the vending machine or the water fountain or the bathroom - he really could be such a girl sometimes - and every memory just tore at Kame's heart, reminding him of all the times he and Jin had had together, of all the times he could have confessed the way he really felt, so much more than the gentle camaraderie that he had played out. When we're older, he had always thought, when our lives are sorted out, when we have a direction - there was always some excuse for putting it off, some reason why Kame couldn't tell Jin today, this week, this year. Any reason he could dream up except admitting the truth to himself - that he was scared. Kamenashi Kazuya wasn't scared of anything, would happily throw himself into whatever the company could dream up for him, fling himself around on trapezes, plummet from the top of a tower without batting an eyelid. Nothing scared him. Nothing except losing Jin.

And now, he was paying for his fear, his cowardice. He _had_ lost Jin, in so many ways. Not only had he lost Jin's friendship, but he had lost him to another, someone that Jin deemed more worthy, someone who Kame could find no other emotion for except pure, undiluted hatred for stealing Jin from him. He had lost the one he adored most, and he would never forgive Yamapi for being the one to lure Jin away.

Swallowing his anger down, Kame soon found that the added heat on his face from the sun was less than pleasant given the stuffiness of the attic, so he shifted, lifting a hand to unlatch the window and let some air into the small space. The moment he reached out, the hand left propping him up slipped out from underneath him and Kame's elbow slammed into a pile of rather precariously balanced boxes. The stack teetered dangerously and Kame scrambled to his feet to try and catch it before it fell, but the top box slid from its post and crashed to the floor, the contents spilling everywhere.

Swearing under his breath, Kame flopped back down onto the floor and began picking everything up again and replacing it in the box. Luckily it hadn't been full of anything delicate - and therefore breakable - which would have caused him to have to face his grandmother's wrath - something that should only ever be heard of and never experienced first hand, according to his father - and there were only a few stacks of books to be housed. They all seemed rather dull, a collection of what most people considered to be 'classics', which to Kame just meant stories about people he couldn't relate to told in words he couldn't understand, so he didn't take any time to look through any of them. Until, that is, he came to a large, leather-bound volume that must have been wedged in amongst the rest.

It was heavy, much heavier than the other books, with a hard cover - a cover more beautifully decorated than any other book Kame had ever seen before. It was almost ornate, the leather raised up in places in intricately embossed designs that could have been anything, but looked wonderful all the same. The uppermost point of each design shimmered slightly in the sunlight, gilted in a way that sparkled more brilliantly than any gold leaf could. The patterns wound their way around the edges of the cover, curling over and under themselves, winding almost like vines or ivy, until they reached their respective corners, where they turned inwards, slithering and reaching towards the centre, heading for the... Kame didn't know _what_ it was. Some odd sort of symbol, all lines and points and curves, something that he couldn't have described or replicated if his life depended on it.

Something about the design peaked Kame's curiosity. He knew he shouldn't go snooping through his grandmother's things, but this book was so undeniably different from the rest, and even while he was thinking that he should put it back where it belonged, he was reaching out and tracing the cover, slender fingers dancing over the patterns as they wove about beneath his hands.

Unable to stop himself, Kame opened the cover, finding the book full of almost parchment-like pages, thick but delicate enough that he was scared of treating them too roughly should they suddenly disintegrate between his fingers. Turning the first page, he found that each had been painstakingly produced, by hand if the ink that had smudged in places was anything to go by, and each with its own unique edging, patterns and drawings decorating the parts of the pages that weren't covered in carefully penned characters. As he flipped farther, Kame began skimming some of the entries. They were all different - this was clearly not a traditional storybook. Poetry, more like, each with its own specific title, and footnotes at the bottom. Someone's favourites? Poems they had loved so much, they had reproduced them in a book solely dedicated to housing these miniature works of art? As he turned, the penmanship changed, the style different to the previous poems, sharper, and the artwork slightly more crude. A different writer, perhaps? Maybe this was an heirloom of some sort, passed down through generations, each owner adding to it as time went by.

The more he read, however, the more he noticed. The poems were awfully specific, none of this round-a-bout way of saying things like all the poets Kame had been forced to read at school. Titles like 'The Wonders of Inner Calm' and 'Revenge is Sweet' were certainly not names he had ever heard of before. None of them seemed to have authors, either. Looking closer, he saw that the footnotes weren't really footnotes at all, more like messages to the reader. The note that came with 'Revenge is Sweet', for example, said 'Take care, sister, brother, for everything dealt must in time, return to you. Do not forget the law of threefold.'

Kame blinked and turned to a more recent page. The title 'Nothing but Truth' greeted him, along with a note in a more modern hand warning against this one, for it not only allowed you to hear the truth from others' lips, but prevented you from telling anything but.

Kame blinked again, the irony of the title not lost on him as the truth settled uncomfortably in his stomach. Spells? Why on God's green earth would his grandmother have a book of spells hidden away in her attic... He didn't even want to think on the matter, of what the reasoning might entail.

Spells. Spells for everything, for a hot summer, for a decent bout of luck, for a longer day, for a good crop season, for love, for-

Kame paused and turned back a page. It was a simply titled verse, only a few lines long, with very little decoration or care taken on the page itself. 'Attraction'. It hardly seemed fitting, considering the enormity of the spell itself.

Reading the hastily scrawled words, Kame scoffed to himself. A book of spells, really. What a load of rubbish. As if a few words could ever change someone's feelings, could ever plant an emotion in their heart. If only it were that easy, if only a few words could call Jin away from the safe comfort of Yamashita's arms... And into Kame's loving embrace...

If only...

Later, Kame couldn't remember how long he sat up there, staring at the page, reading and re-reading every character staring up at him from the page. Wondering, hoping, wishing, dreaming.

If only...

It couldn't hurt, could it? It wasn't like he was under some delusion that he had some sort of special magical ability, it wasn't like he actually believed in this stuff. He was a modern man, science and technology and all that, spells and herbs and candles weren't exactly his thing. Even so, Kame couldn't stop himself, couldn't prevent his lips mouthing the sounds, couldn't help the words that seemed to flow from his lips as if they had been hidden away in his head all along just waiting for their moment.

__  
I call thee, beloved one,  
To love me more than anyone.  
Seven times I speak thy name,  
With these words I stake my claim.  
I bind thy heart and soul to me;  
As I do will, so let it be.  


The moment the seventh and final 'Jin' left his lips, Kame snapped his mouth shut, every sense alert to any change in the atmosphere, anything that would indicate some kind of change, some shift, _something_ to prove that he was wrong, that magic and spells _were_ real, and than Jin would finally be his.

A cry from below made Kame jump so hard he almost hit his head on the low roof, and he scrambled over to the hatch.

"Obaachan? Are you okay?"

It took a moment, but soon his grandmother's voice drifted up to him, "Sorry Kazuya, I dropped something, that's all. Are you-" Here she hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Are you alright up there? Are you nearly finished?"

Kame's mind raced a mile a minute, debating in a split second whether or not to mention his discovery to her, "Uh.. Yes, yes I'm fine, almost done! I'll be right down."

The guilt of the lie weighed heavily on his shoulders, but admitting the truth would only bring up awkward questions, with answers he didn't really want to hear. No, it was definitely better this way.

Sparing the book one final glance, Kame sighed and snapped it shut, replacing it in the box it had fallen from and stacking the last few books atop it before the short battle one always has to have with cardboard boxes to get all four flaps to close properly.

He wasn't sure if he felt more disappointed, that the spell clearly hadn't worked, or stupid, for believing that it could.

~*~

That evening, Yamapi had abandoned Jin, leaving him alone in the apartment while he disappeared to film a night-time scene for his latest drama, shouting something over his shoulder about probably being kept out there until early the next morning.

After an hour of browsing the internet and flicking between music channels, Jin came across a showing of an episode of Kurosagi, and, having nothing better to do, settled back to watch it. The only problem was, he thought Yamapi's cool, don't-give-a-fuck attitude was one of the hottest things he had ever seen, and soon found himself with his hand down the front of his jeans, fast-forwarding through any of the scenes Maki was in to get to more shots of Pi. When Yamapi flipped the camera off, face scrunched up in distaste, Jin moaned, throwing his head back against the sofa as he thrust up against his palm, feeling his toes curl against the carpet as he felt it, there, just there-

Scrunching his eyes closed as he arched clean off the cushions, Jin brought Yamapi's face to the forefront of his mind again, the smooth curve of his jaw, the lines of his collarbone, the small, delicately-shaped nose, but just as he could _taste_ his orgasm, Yamapi's features shifted, the hair lengthening and lightening, cheekbones lifting and becoming more pronounced, nose growing and bumping, and before Jin knew what was happening, he was filling his hand with come, the image of Kame taking over his vision.

He ended up curled up in bed, having washed his hands thoroughly and thrown his jeans and boxers into the wash, disconcerted and more than a little uncomfortable. It took him hours to fall asleep, but he promised himself he was just overworked, clearly spending more time with Kamenashi than was healthy for just one man.

~*~

The next time Kame saw Jin was that weekend, at the location the photographer had picked for their photoshoot. As always, Jin was fashionably late, arriving only when the other five band members had been dressed and made up, and Nakamaru was already in front of the camera. While the make-up girls fuss over Jin, Kame let himself steal the odd glance in the mirror.

They had given him a little foundation to even out his skin tone, some neutral eye-shadow - Kame always wondered why they bothered with that, you couldn't see the stuff anyway - and a thin line of eye-liner underneath both eyes, making them look even deeper than they already did. Kame sighed. Jin was beautiful, but he looked much better without all that caked on his face.

The younger man let his head drop back against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. He thought back to the time they used to share rooms together, could see as clear as day Jin's tousled head and bleary eyes poking over the top of the duvet covers, the back of one hand coming up to rub sleepily at his face. Kame couldn't stop the smile curving his lips - Jin had always been most endearing first thing in the morning.

He looked back towards the mirrors, watched Jin wink at one of the girls and heard her giggle flirtatiously. Now Jin barely even _spoke_ to him.

Kame quickly averted his eyes as Jin rose from the chair, straightening the leather jacket he had been given for the shoot and sat down on the other end of the sofa. He slouched right down low, legs spread in the most ungraceful of ways, and pulled out his phone, clicking away at a mail. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Kame saw Jin stuff the phone back in his pocket and sit up a little, turning towards him.

"Yo."

Kame nodded in reply, not trusting himself to speak.

"What's the theme for this one?"

It took Kame a moment to answer, his brain focusing on the way Jin's lips looked as he spoke and not the actual words coming out of his mouth.

"Uh, matchmaking, I think."

"Oh. We just have to look hot, then?"

Kame tried to laugh, but all that came out was a huffed grunt, and he forced an uncertain smile, "How original."

Jin's smile was far more believable, his eyes crinkling slightly, "I'm just so good at it, they don't want us to do anything else."

This time, Kame's snort of laughter was genuine, "You wish."

 

Jin grinned in response, then quickly wiped it from his face as he remembered the events of the night before. He found his eyes drawn to the way Kame's lips parted, showing a flash of white teeth. He blinked, but was saved from having to give any more thought to the matter when his name was called.

Thankfully, Jin's turn in front of the camera didn't take long - like he told Kame, he was a pro - and after a few flashes and snaps, it was Kame's turn.

As the photographer snapped away, Jin busied himself mailing Yamapi - the other man probably wouldn't get a chance to answer him until he was given a few minutes for lunch, but he knew Yamapi always read his mails as soon as they arrived. Jin liked thinking that something as simple as sending Pi a few emails could help him through the day. Every now and then, though, his eyes would drift over to where Kame was posing for the camera, shirt unbuttoned half-way giving a teasing glimpse of flesh, hair falling in front of his eyes and brushing over his fingers, where his hand was hovering by his mouth. Once, he even saw Kame looking back at him, and hastily yanked his gaze away and back to his phone, scrolling through his list of contacts for someone else to bother. It was definitely relief that flooded through him when they were called together for the group shots.

They were all told to sprawl on the sofa - _elegantly_ , the photographer had emphasized - and look up at the camera. The sofa was rather small, but apparently that was the point, and eventually, they all managed to fit. Junno took the left side, one arm over the back and one leg up on the seat. Koki sat down on the right, mirroring Junno's position but throwing one arm over the arm of the sofa to dangle and propping his head up with the other, using the back of the sofa to rest his elbow on. Kame was in the middle of them, his right leg pulled up against his chest as he leaned against Koki's knee, head tilted to rest on his shoulder. Maru squished in between Junno and Kame, Junno's leg behind his back, and slouched down slightly, spreading his legs, as Junno brought his arm down around Maru's shoulders, fingers brushing against Kame's arm.

Deciding they couldn't possibly fit anyone else on there, Ueda and Jin took the floor, Jin stretching one leg out along the bottom of the sofa and bringing the other up to rest one arm on, hand falling limp so that his fingers almost touched the floor, while he placed his other elbow carefully on Kame's knee, the touch so light it almost wasn't there. Ueda took up his position opposite Jin, legs crossed Indian style with one arm behind Maru's legs and his head tilted to rest on the side of Maru's leg.

They were only a few snaps in when Jin found himself noticing the heat radiating off of Kame's body. He could almost feel it pulsing, waves pushing against his skin, and he blew a puff of air over his face to try and cool himself down, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Akanishi-san, please sit still."

Jin mumbled an apology and tried to ignore it, discreetly turning his body slightly so that he could feel the sofa behind his back, surprisingly cool when compared to Kame. The other man's knee shifted under his arm, and Jin jumped, eyes flicking up to where Kame was leaning even more into Koki and giving the camera his best bedroom eyes.

"Please look at the camera, Akanishi-san."

Jin nearly jumped again, and tore his eyes away just before Kame looked down to see what he was looking at, and focused on the camera lens, lowering his eyelids and looking up from beneath his eyelashes. _Just concentrate._

He kept silently repeating the words over and over again, _concentrate, just concentrate_ , until finally, the photographer decided he had enough shots of them to fill a few pages. Jin practically jumped up from the floor and shed his jacket, throwing it on the table in favour of gulping down half of his - he hoped it was his, anyway - bottle of water. The water, and the distance, helped, and soon he felt himself begin to cool down.

He barely spoke throughout the interview, only giving his answers when prompted, and allowing the others to carry on the conversation while he dozed against the back of the chair.

The day couldn't end soon enough.

~*~

The next week passed by in a bit of a blur to Jin; get up, practice, smile for the camera, yell at Junno, go home and sleep. If he was lucky, he'd be able to squeeze some food in there somewhere once in a while. He didn't really notice the way he was giving Kame increasingly more attention than usual until the fifth day, when he had a spare fifteen minutes between being told how to roll his hips for maximum female squealage and how _not_ to roll said hips so as to avoid putting everyone else to shame. Normally, Jin would have gasped 'Thank God' and darted off in search of food whilst dialling Yamapi's number on his phone. Instead, today he discovered his mind logically working through all the places Kame might be. When Jin questioned his brain on its activities, the only thing he could dig up was that he wanted to - for the love of God - _look_ at Kame.

The moment his conscious mind realised what he was doing, he remembered all the little things that had changed - he could remember surreptitiously watching over the top of his magazine as Kame had stripped off his shirt, eyes inexplicably drawn to the slender chest and smooth skin, he remembered gazing at the way Kame's fingers curled around a microphone or a water bottle and had to force his eyes away before the many scenarios threatening to make themselves known caused a visible problem... And then there was the time he had found himself glued to the way Kame's backside swayed and gyrated across the stage as he practised his new solo routine...

Jin shuddered; although the verdict was still out on whether it was a cause of discomfort or... Something else.

And now that he had noticed it, it was like he couldn't stop himself. It was getting hard to brush off the glances and stares as simply 'admiring a fellow idol's looks' when such instances included Jin closing his eyes and imagining Kame's mouth on him in the most obscene of ways, or watching Kame's fingers twist together in his lap and see them twisting themselves into clean, rumpled sheets, tugging frantically...

Day after day, Jin would burst through the door and seek Yamapi out - God forbid the other man wasn't home before him - and after pinning him to the nearest available surface, be it horizontal or vertical, Jin wasn't picky, would kiss him senseless and then proceed to use every trick known to man to make Yamapi writhe and gasp beneath him until they were both too physically exhausted to move a single muscle. Yamapi didn't seem to mind Jin's apparent sudden burning desire for him, and as long as Jin kept his eyes closed, Yamapi's body was enough.

~*~

An elbow to the face was not normally Jin's chosen method of being woken up - a well-placed kiss or even a hand curled around his most intimate part was most definitely preferred, but this morning, was sadly not to be.

Scooting away from the offending limb with a yelp, an arm over his face to protect himself from further attack, Jin risked cracking one eye open to glare threateningly - or as threateningly as one can manage with one eye scrunched shut in agony - at the source of his pain.

Who was still sleeping.

Yamapi looked perfectly contented, face a picture of peaceful heaven as he slept on, blissfully unaware of the agonising throbbing of Jin's abused face, one arm sprawled across Jin's pillow where he had flung it in his sleep.

Jin let out an unintelligible string of vowels through his gritted teeth, before flopping back on the bed, carefully avoiding Yamapi's limbs and nursing his sore eye.

Once the pain had subsided to a dull ache, and Jin was no longer feeling the urge to remove Yamapi's arm from the rest of his body using only a spoon and some battery acid, he sat up yet again, blinking repeatedly with his injured eye like he had some strange, irrepressible twitch until he could see clearly again. Slowly, he slid out of bed, uncharacteristically thoughtful in the way he moved, being careful not to make the mattress shift too much, and lovingly tucked the blanket back around Yamapi's body to keep the cool air from disturbing him.

The moment Jin straightened, he knew something was wrong. Every morning, without fail, he would wake with the usual morning erection - one to be proud of, he thought conceitedly - and a mere glance at Yamapi's face would make it twitch with the beginnings of arousal. Every morning, he would wake Yamapi up, sometimes a kiss, sometimes a well-placed hand, sometimes something more interesting, and Yamapi would groan and tell him to go back to sleep, a random limb flailing out to beat Jin into submission should he refuse.

But here he was, gazing down at his sleeping partner, and there was... Nothing. Jin could appreciate Yamapi's delicate beauty, the soft curve of his brow, the gentle pout of his lips, the slight wrinkle of his nose when he moved, but other than that... Nothing, absolutely nothing. No need to feel Yamapi's skin against his, no slow burn to feel other parts of Yamapi's anatomy against him, inside him, no desire, no lust... Yamapi was just... Yamapi. The boy he had known since forever, the teenager who had laughed at him when he had fallen, the man who had stuck by him through everything. He could still feel that tightness in his chest, the heady warmth of the love he held for Yamapi deep in his heart, the need to protect him from everything and care for him until the end. He still _loved_ Yamapi with every fibre of his being, he just couldn't - didn't - have that almost unbearable lust for him any more.

Jin stared. It was impossible, they had had what he would possibly consider to be the best sex of his life last night, they had reached such highs together in the heat of the moment, but now there was just emptiness. First Kame, and now this? It was.. unthinkable, unbelievable that it could all just disappear in the blink of an eye. He leaned down, drew the sheet back from Yamapi's body to hang off the edge of the bed. The other man grumbled softly in his sleep and rolled over, seeking out Jin's abandoned warmth, and curled up into a ball around a stray pillow, but Jin could still see enough of his body to know that something was most definitely wrong.

Yamapi hadn't changed in any way, yet overnight, he had gone from the most desirable being on the face of the earth to, in Jin's eyes, just another guy. Attractive, Yamapi had always been attractive, but not high enough on the 'desire' scale to have Jin's body reacting with his mere presence. Yamapi had become little more than an average Joe, and try as he might, he simply _couldn't_ entice his body with the other man's.

 

If Jin seemed at all off that morning, Yamapi didn't mention it, just gulped down his breakfast and coffee - black, no sugar - and flew out the door, late as always because of his tendency to sleep in.

Jin, on the other hand, lingered, going through photographs and magazines, even digging out a tape of a rather dubious nature he had convinced Yamapi to make with him, and had hidden away, after seeing the other man's scandalised face as he saw himself on screen, promising never to watch again. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and Jin was a step away from dragging Yamapi away from whatever it was he had gone off to do, consequences be damned, and _force_ some sort of arousal out of himself. But even watching Yamapi writhing around on the sheets, listening to the way he moaned when Jin moved his hips just right, couldn't stir anything inside him. If anything, Jin was more enamoured with the sight of _himself_ than of Yamapi.

There was only one thing left to do. Pulling out his phone, Jin hit the speed dial and tapped his foot agitatedly as he waited for the other person to answer.

"What?" the person on the other end growled, _"This had better be good, I was just about t-"_

"Ryo-chaaaan," Jin whined pitifully, "Help me."

Ryo sighed in frustration, "What is it now, idiot? Did you run out of toothpaste again, because I'm _not_ coming all the way over there just so you can send me to the store."

Jin bit his lip, "It's serious this time, I promise, I-"

But Ryo had already hung up.

 

Jin was two seconds away from full-on tears when Ryo let himself in - "That key was for-" "If this isn't an emergency, I'm going to kill you, I swear." - an armful of beer in one hand and his keys jangling in the other as he nudged the door closed with his hip.

"So, what is it?"

"Oh, Ryo-chan!" Jin wailed, collapsing back against the sofa, "There's something wrong with me!"

"Excuse me?" Ryo dead panned, his stare less than impressed, "You called me all the way over here, out of the bed of a girl with a body to die for, to tell me something we've all been trying to tell you for years?"

Had Jin been thinking more clearly, he would surely have been offended.

"No! I'm serious! It's Pi.."

Ryo looked rather put-out, but kept his mouth shut, dumping the beer on the coffee table and sitting down next to his whimpering friend.

"I... I can't.. c-can't.." Jin's voice had lowered to a quiet mumble, each syllable quivering in time with his bottom lip.

"Can't what?" While Ryo prided himself for always being there when his friends needed him, he didn't have the patience for this.

"I can't..." Jin whispered, so that Ryo had to lean in closer to hear him, "I can't get... horny."

Ryo snorted, covered his mouth and bit his lip in an attempt to stop himself, then shook with suppressed laughter. After a moment of quiet vibration, Ryo seemed to compose himself, swallowing hard and lowering his hand to rest on his knee, but when he spoke, Jin could still hear the amusement in his voice, "Are you trying to tell me you're impotent?"

Jin's eyes went as wide as saucers, "No!! God, no! At least... I don't think so..." He glanced down at his crotch, brow creasing with worry, "I don't know. Ryo!" The saucer-eyes returned, "What if I am?! What if... What if..." While the sound that left Jin's lips was high pitched and desperate, it was most certainly _not_ a whimper, and he would defend it to the death if anyone tried to claim otherwise.

He reached out and grabbed Ryo's hand, clutching at his friend's fingers like a man about to fall to his death, "I've always been there for you when you needed me, right?"

Hesitation, then a nod.

"We've always helped each other out, haven't we?"

Ryo had been about to nod again, unthinkingly, but as he raised his eyes to meet Jin's, his subconscious must have caught something hidden in their depths, because in the next moment Ryo found himself tugging his hand away and pressing himself back against the arm of the couch, as far away from the other man as he could get.

"No. Holy shit, Jin, no _way_ am I doing that for you. Sort this out yourself. Find some good porn or a doctor or something. No fucking way."

Jin visibly wilted at Ryo's refusal to help him in his time of need, "But... What am I supposed to do?!" He was all but wailing, face the picture of blind terror at the prospect of being unable to perform in the bedroom.

Ryo sighed his ever-suffering sigh, and turned pitying eyes upon the other man, "Calm down, okay? You're probably just too used to him. You two have been together for ages, right?" Jin nodded, staring at Ryo with wide eyes and drinking in every word eagerly, "Maybe you just need some more excitement, something to liven things up in the bedroom."

Jin was quiet for a long moment before he swallowed visibly then raised eyes filled with a desperate kind of hope to meet Ryo's steady gaze, "So... I'm not impotent?"

~*~

His answer came as soon as that afternoon.

They had been given a new set of steps to learn for an upcoming television performance, and Jin happily gave it his all, glad for something to distract him from his unease. However, the choreographer had placed him just behind Kame for a portion of the song, and Jin was forced to watch time and time again as Kame sang his lines and rolled his hips, one finger stuck in his belt to accentuate the movement. The jeans he was wearing looked like they'd been painted-on, clinging to his skin and accentuating every muscle as he moved. Jin had, by now, almost given up trying to figure out where this sudden attraction to Kame had come from, but on the sixth roll of his hips, Kame drew out the last note he sang into what was, to Jin's ears, one of the most sensual moans he had ever heard, and he found himself twitch with arousal, blood beginning to rush downwards.

Slightly panicked, he forced himself to think of as many turn-offs as he could imagine - old ladies' feet, hours of shopping with a girl with an irritating laugh, Koki's ass - and thankfully, willed it away. He was, however, bouncing up and down inside like a child at Christmas. He _wasn't_ impotent. He'd never admit to Ryo that he was right.

Rushing home that evening, Jin eagerly dragged Yamapi into their bedroom, but as soon as the other man started undoing Jin's jeans, mouthing at Jin's neck in a way that would normally have him writhing with need, Jin knew something was wrong.

"It's okay," Yamapi had told him afterwards, "You're probably just a bit tired, that's all."

Jin only wishes he could blame a lack of sleep on his problem. He just nods in response, and Yamapi assumes the dark look on his face is a result of the trouble he had had in bed that night. Jin would never be able to tell him it was because the only way he had managed to get hard at all was by remembering the way Kame had moved his hips.

 

It only got worse from there. More and more, Jin found himself willing away his erection whilst he was at work, and having to will it _back_ again when he got home. But, for now, he thought he could manage, sure that this would all pass with time.

~*~

And he did manage. Until late one Friday evening, when they'd all been kept on late to rehearse for a new performance, and, unable to curb the unbearable burn of lust making his entire body tingle, Jin found himself in the bathroom down the hall, back pressed against a hastily slammed door with his fingers tugging and curling viciously, Kame's name on his lips as he spent himself.

~*~

"Ne, Jin, are you okay?"

Yamapi's concerned voice cut into his thoughts, mind racing a-mile-a-minute, and he looked up from where he had been toying with his bowl of soba.

"Hm? Mmm.." He replied non-committally, hoping Yamapi would take the hint and change the subject. Sadly, Yamapi had never been very good at taking any sort of hint, and was far more likely to prod and pester until someone yelled at him or punched him than leave it be.

"No, you're not okay. You've been daydreaming all evening, and they're not happy thoughts. I can tell." Yamapi nodded resolutely.

Jin groaned inwardly and prodded his cooling noodles with his chopsticks, "I... Pi, I don't want to talk about it. Not right now."

Yamapi frowned and pursed his lips, a disgruntled expression settling on his features, "I've left it alone for a while, Jin. You've been like this all week, spacing out, ignoring me, not answering my questions... I don't want to sound like a girl, but it's getting really old. We're in this together, and if something's bothering you, you should be able to tell me. Right?"

Jin couldn't bring himself to meet Yamapi's eyes as he nodded, "I know, I'm just... Just tired, that's all." He swallowed hard, desperately hoping that the other man would just drop it.

Yamapi sighed, and even Jin could tell he was unconvinced, "Fine. Come on, let's get some sleep, and maybe in the morning you can tell me what's really the matter."

 

Although Jin's earlier moment of self-gratification had kept him going through the evening, with the lights out later that night, Yamapi's hips flexing in a way that had Jin practically sobbing out his release, it was Kame's face behind his eyelids, Kame's fingers bruising his hips, Kame's tongue tracing meaningless patterns across his collar, and after the strongest orgasm he could ever imagine having, Jin simply couldn't take it any more.

It was only much later, long after Yamapi had rolled off of him, kissed him goodnight and promptly fallen asleep that Jin turned over onto his side and curled in on himself, grip on the blanket so tight his knuckles turned white, and let the tears that had been burning at his eyes fall, digging his teeth hard into his lip so as not to wake Yamapi.

~*~

The following morning, Jin was up and out before Yamapi had even woken up. It had taken him until dawn was peeking in through the curtains for him to fall asleep, and he had only managed thirty minutes or so alone with his dreams - Kame, brow creased in pleasure, lips shining with saliva, gasping out Jin's name over and over - before he was unable to stay in bed a moment longer.

The streets were almost deathly quiet as Jin walked, sunglasses pushed high on his nose, cap pulled down over his eyes despite the early hour and lack of sunlight. He almost wished for some sort of life, laughing children, roaring engines, something, anything to take his mind off.. Whatever the hell this was. But it seemed Mother Nature was against him this morning, and he was left to his thoughts as he wandered the paths and alleys that would take him - eventually - to work.

He let the events of the past few weeks play out in his head, working systematically backwards through all of his memories to try and see what had changed, what had happened to make _him_ change. Yamapi certainly hadn't been doing anything differently, still as over-worked but chirpy as ever, and Kame was still his annoying, stuck-up, bitchy self, which certainly didn't explain why even now Jin felt a burning need to be near him, to feel his skin, his breath, his-

Jin stomped on that train of thought before it took him to places he really didn't want to be whilst out in the public eye.

If it wasn't Yamapi or Kame, then the only person left was him. The thought scared Jin almost as much as the force of his orgasm the previous night had, given the face behind his eyes at the time. It wasn't so odd that he'd be attracted to someone - he _was_ only human, after all - but that it was _Kame_ , of all people? And after all this time? It was true, Kame was much better looking now than when they were juniors together, but it wasn't exactly a recent development, and despite what the rest of his band would claim, Jin wasn't _that_ slow on the uptake. There were also so many other people to choose from, male and female, and if Jin was going to choose someone, Kamenashi would be at the bottom of the list, only coming in above Johnny, and maybe a few of the under age juniors.

Jin sighed to himself. Maybe Ryo was right, maybe he _was_ just getting bored.

But why _Kame_?

~*~

Jin's distraction got him into more trouble than he was used to, constantly falling over himself trying to remember different dance steps and stumbling over his words during practice - if he even managed to come in on time in the first place. Eventually, they broke for lunch, and Ueda glared at him long enough for him to mumble that he was taking the afternoon off to rest - they weren't getting anything done with him here anyway.

Kame had been able to feel eyes on him all morning, but had been too afraid to turn and find out whose they were. He didn't really need to see Jin to know he was looking at him, but Kame was beginning to have doubts about the assumed failure of his 'spell'. He had certainly caught Jin watching him far more than was normal, and whenever the other man was in the room with him, he felt the familiar burning sensation on the back of his neck, making him want to shiver.

And when Jin finally begged off, looking slightly drawn, skin white as a sheet but cheeks a fiery red, Kame couldn't help the little leap his heart gave at the possibility of it actually _working_. Jin looked ill, he didn't like that, but if it brought the love of his life to him in the end, it was worth it. As long as he could have Jin, nothing else mattered.

~*~

In the comfort of his own home, Jin allowed himself to relieve the almost constant pressure in his jeans, coming almost embarrassingly quickly when he imagined the way Kame would sound when he moaned and swearing to himself as he took in his ruined shirt.

Jin had thought Yamapi had forgotten about his distantness, not having questioned him again about why he wasn't always focused, but when Yamapi arrived home that night, he realised how wrong he had been.

He was already asleep on the sofa when the other man returned, but instead of covering him with a blanket and letting him sleep, Yamapi disappeared into the bedroom for a while, returning only to shake him awake and take a seat next to him whilst Jin slowly rejoined the land of the living.

"Jin, we need to talk."

Not half an hour later, Yamapi was gone, collecting his small suitcase from the bedroom - "I'm going to stay with Yuu for a while.. I've tried asking you, I've tried to ignore everything, but I can't do it any more. There's someone else, isn't there?" Jin had spluttered in denial, but even he couldn't voice out the words to put Yamapi's heart at ease - and had left, leaving Jin staring at the door as it slammed in shock.

The sudden bang seemed to snap him out of his trance, and he jumped up, but moved no further. If he chased Yamapi, what exactly would he say? Would he tell the truth, and risk losing Pi completely? Yamapi _had_ promised he would be back - they were stronger than this, after all - as long as Jin got over whatever this was and could promise his faithfulness again. But would he be as understanding if he knew the full situation? Would he be able to lie, if he couldn't be truthful? Could he live with the guilt of lying to the most important person in his heart?

So Jin stayed, and let Yamapi go. He could get through this, could get past this insane infatuation he had with Kamenashi. He could do anything for Pi. He hoped.

~*~

Day after day passed, Jin dragging himself into work if only to get away from the unbearable loneliness of the apartment, struggling harder every day to get over what could only be described as his infatuation with Kame. Every moment in the other man's company was getting harder to stand, Jin's fingers itching to touch him, lips tingling at the simple thought of Kame's lips against his own, body practically aching with need. Every night - and when that stopped being enough, every break-time too - Jin tried to reconjour those feelings with thoughts of Yamapi, pictures of Yamapi, _anything_ relating to Yamapi, but he always fell short. Until he thought of Kame.

Soon though, even this wasn't enough. He was jerking off three or four times a day now, and still, the moment he walked back into the room, cheeks still flushed, that twinge was back again in the pit of his stomach, and Jin found that no matter how many times he tried to get rid of it with a hand wrapped around his cock, it wouldn't leave him.

~*~

Finally, almost two weeks later, the burn was too much, the need too strong, and it was like Jin's legs had a mind of their own as they carried him across the room to where Kame was taking a long drink from his water bottle, head back and throat working as he swallowed.

Yanking the bottle away from his lips, Jin wrapped the fingers of one hand firmly around his wrist. His eyes took in Kame's figure, gaze so full of lust that Kame almost gasped at the look, at the way just Jin's _eyes_ made him shiver.

Jin murmured a soft, "Come with me," and pulled, leaving Kame no time to argue or even think about where they were going or why.

Kame couldn't have pried himself from Jin's iron grip even if he had wanted to - not that he was really trying very hard - so let himself be dragged down the corridor and into the bathroom, any protests he might have wanted to voice purely for front dying in his throat at the simple feel of Jin's hands on him. The heavy door thudded closed behind them long after Jin had shoved him into the nearest cubicle and slid in beside him, the rickety walls shuddering in warning as Kame found himself being slammed up against the wall. Undiluted pain wracked his body, shoulders and spine screaming out in protest, but Jin was already on him, hands ripping and tugging at his clothes, his face buried in Kame's neck, practically feasting on his flesh, lips leaving wet, suckling kisses and teeth nipping on the soft skin in his enthusiasm. Kame could feel every one of Jin's breaths, hot and heavy as the other man seemed to be trying his damnedest to suffocate himself with Kame's body, almost desperately inhaling Kame's scent.

"I-" Jin gasped out, the sound muffled by the way he refused to lift his head, "God, Kame, I need you, why the fuck do I need you so badly.."

Kame certainly wasn't going to tell him the truth, so he simply groaned softly as Jin's hands found their way beneath his shirt, fingers digging and clutching as he tried to press himself closer and tug off Kame's clothes at the same time. When he can't, Jin becomes almost frantic, pushing and pulling at the fabric until Kame has to practically rip his shirt from Jin's grip and shove it off of his body to keep it in one piece. It's not easy in the tiny space, especially with the way Jin can't seem to give him even half an inch of space to manoeuvre in, but somehow he manages it, still scarcely able to believe what's happening to him.

It might not be exactly how he'd always envisioned it - a toilet stall wasn't exactly the most romantic setting, or the most comfortable for that matter - but Kame certainly wasn't going to turn away something he'd been dreaming of for as long as he could remember, even when he knew that what Jin was feeling wasn't entirely real.

He didn't - couldn't - let that spoil anything though, as Jin's mouth found his, lips closing over his in the most demanding kiss Kame had ever received, tongue stroking and exploring, brushing against his own in a way that was making Kame's head spin. He threw himself into the kiss, determined to make the most of this - for all he knew, this would be the only time he would get so close to Jin, get to touch, to taste, to _feel_ him, and Kame would be damned before he stood there like a ragdoll and let Jin play with him. He wanted to do his best to leave a lasting impression on the other man, even if it was only to bring him shuddering to orgasm. He would show Jin that he was better for him than Yamashita, that he could bring him more pleasure, more happiness than the other man ever could, more than Jin had ever imagined possible.

Winding his arms around the other man's neck, Kame tilted his head to the side to allow Jin to delve deeper, met the questing tongue with his own and fought back, the simple kiss alone igniting things deep inside that pushed themselves up and out of him in a soft moan which echoed strangely in Jin's mouth.

The hands that had been exploring Kame's back, tracing each line and curve slid back around to the front, and he had to force back a shiver as they lingered on his sides, tickling briefly before Jin was fumbling with his belt, fingers awkward and bumbling in their haste. Just as Kame was about to help with that, too, Jin let out a small sound of triumph against the younger man's lips and Kame felt his jeans sag without the belt there to hold them up. The button on them proved much easier, and Jin had transformed Kame's designer jeans and boxers into a pile of useless denim and fabric around his ankles in the blink of an eye. With some difficulty, Kame toed his boots and socks off so that he could kick the mess away, and then Jin was brushing a hand over his leg, fingers sliding up the back of his thigh and was lifting him like he weighed nothing, one hand around his hip and the other underneath his backside, pressing him even harder against the cubicle wall. Kame was sure he'd be bruised black and blue tomorrow morning, but it would definitely be so much more than worth it.

He tightened his grip around Jin's neck for support, and wrapped his legs around his waist - slim despite all the abuse he got, especially from Yamashita, he noted. He didn't know why Jin put up with it; Kame himself would _never_ say anything so cruel to the other man. Jin was perfect, no doubt about it, and there was nothing about him that Kame would change for the world. Except that one big problem - Jin's utterly ridiculous need to be so close to Yamapi.

Kame probably would have ended up getting angry, as usual, had Jin not rolled his hips forward at that very moment, some awe-inspiring dance move that Kame was sure he had seen at some point on television, and if he had known which of their choreographers had helped Jin perfect that move, he would have kissed them. Later, of course. He threw his head back, skull colliding painfully with the wall, but he couldn't bring himself to care as Jin ground against him again, and Kame could feel the heat other man's arousal, even through the thick jeans he was wearing. The denim was so rough against his bare skin it almost hurt, but every gyration of Jin's body against his own filled him with a rich, fiery heat that threatened to burn him up from the inside out, and all Kame could do was hang on tight and beg Jin with his body to never, never stop.

And Jin showed no sign of stopping, the hand that wasn't supporting Kame's weight sliding through his hair and tugging the other man's head up to crush their lips together, muffling their groans with their mouths. Jin's tongue battled with his own, his taste of tobacco and something indescribably good the most delicious thing Kame had ever encountered, and he would have happily gone on kissing Jin for as long as he could. But then Jin's mouth was moving, along his jaw and down his neck, teeth marking the skin possessively as he went.

"Take off your clothes," Kame whispered, the first proper words since their exchange had begun, and Jin seemed to startle, tensing for a split second - enough time for Kame to panic and wonder if Jin had realised what he was doing, and that he didn't want to be doing it - but then he had let go of Kame, letting his legs fall to the floor, and was pulling off his shirt, and Kame's heart returned to its excited racing, as opposed to a painful pounding against his chest.

 

Jin stripped faster than he ever had in his life, choosing to ignore the little voice that was shouting, screaming at him that this was wrong, that that voice wasn't Yamapi, that this wasn't who he should be doing this with and focusing on the pure lust flowing through his veins for the man in front of him. Instead, he threw his clothes down onto the floor and pressed himself back up against Kame again, grunting softly as he felt Kame's erection rub up against his own, so much sweeter now without the roughness of his clothes in the way.

He wasted no time in lifting the other man back up again, one arm holding him easily, and Jin marvelled at how light he was, almost weightless in his arms - nothing like Yamapi, who was always the one lifting him - and Jin immediately hated himself a little for comparing Kame with Yamapi, but it was quickly forgotten when he felt Kame's breath on his ear, arms going back around Jin's neck to steady himself.

Before he had even realised what he was doing, the fingers of Jin's free hand were pressing against Kame's lips, and Kame was eagerly parting for them, tongue sliding over and between them in a way that went straight to Jin's groin, making him twitch against Kame's stomach.

Part of him never wanted to remove his fingers from the other man's mouth, Kame's tongue doing such wonderful things to the digits that Jin felt like he could come from that alone, but the burn in his stomach reminded him that it could get so much better, so, after a few more moments he gently coaxed Kame's mouth open and removed them, careful not to let Kame suck any of the saliva off.

A slight shift of weight, and Jin could reach around, pressing his fingers against Kame's entrance, one sliding easily inside as Kame opened up eagerly for him. Almost immediately Kame was pressing back against the digit, sighing softly against Jin's throat, and Jin began working in a second, and, when Kame was writhing in his arms and gasping out his breaths, a third.

He probably went a little too fast, because Kame hissed in pain as Jin pressed his length against him, but by now he was too desperate to care a great deal and continued insistently pushing inside.

Kame's fingers dug into his skin, but he didn't protest, allowing Jin to continue until he was buried completely inside. And God, was it exquisite. So unbelievably tight around him, it was like every single one of Kame's muscles was trying to pull him in deeper. And hot, so hot, so hot Jin felt like he would burn up if he stayed inside a moment longer, but never in a million years would he have stopped.

Kame shifted restlessly, and legs tightening around Jin's waist spurred him into action, fighting through the resistance of Kame's body with each short thrust until they became longer, harder, faster so that soon he was pounding Kame into the stall wall, face buried in the other man's neck to muffle the sounds he couldn't possibly have held back.

Kame's mind was swimming, drowning in Jin's body, Jin's lips, Jin's smell, Jin, Jin, _Jin_ , his hands clutching at hot, bare skin, slipping in the sheen of perspiration covering Jin's shoulders as he clawed at them for some sense of purchase, wanting this to last longer, so much longer, but every thrust of Jin's hips pushed him closer and closer, taking him higher and higher until it was too late.

"I love you," Kame gasped, but his mind was too far gone to really register that he had let the words slip out until his own voice reached his ears, and he couldn't really bring himself to care, not when Jin was rolling his hips just like _that_ , making him see stars and turning his brain to jelly, and Kame was gone, throwing his head back, uncaring of who heard him as he cried out, cock pulsing between them as he came.

If Jin heard, he didn't react, just continued pounding into Kame's body until Kame felt more than heard the grunt against his neck, felt Jin stiffen, felt the warmth spread inside him as Jin followed.

-

After the first week, Kame was finding it hard to be pleased any more. Jin was looking paler and paler every day, his face more drawn with grey bags forming underneath his eyes. But still, every break without fail he would tug Kame out of the studio into an empty room or bathroom to coax an orgasm out of him, every time getting faster, rougher, more violent and desperate than the last. No matter how much it hurt though, how many bruises he had on his hips and his shoulders from Jin's fingers and teeth, he couldn't stop him. The release was so sweet, so perfect every single time that any pain that came before or after was nothing, totally irrelevant.

One such day, Jin cried out his pleasure into Kame's mouth as he shuddered, Kame following close behind, and as they stood their catching their respective breaths, Kame felt Jin start to shake unevenly, pressing his face tighter into Kame's shoulder. Running his thumb over the other man's cheek and coaxing his head up, Kame got a split-second glimpse at Jin's face before he whipped his head to the side, hair obscuring the view. Even if Kame hadn't seen the tears leaking from his eyes, he could feel the residue on his skin, cooling as the air got to it.

He tried to bring Jin back to face him, but the older man refused, and Kame felt his heart clench in his chest when Jin refused to share that sort of simple intimacy with him - it only reminded him further that this need Jin had for him wasn't real, wasn't of his own free will. But he couldn't think about that, wouldn't let himself feel guilty for taking something that should have belonged to him in the first place.

"Jin... What's wrong?" He tried quietly, resting his fingers lightly on the other man's shoulder.

Jin sniffed and only cried harder, and Kame could tell he was holding back his sobs with his teeth.

"Jin," Kame pressed, "You can talk to me."

Jin barked out a laugh, the noise sounding like it hurt his throat, "Talk to you? Until recently you've never had any sort of interest in me, Kamenashi, and I certainly haven't in you. Why do you suddenly care about how I feel?"

Kame swallowed against the lump in his throat, heart thudding painfully in his chest at the revelation that Jin still didn't care for him. It wasn't like he didn't know already, Jin had never given him any sort of recognition when they _weren't_ having sex, but to have Jin say it like that was something else entirely.

However, Kame was nothing if not determined, deciding to take a different angle. He had learned early on, if someone is angry or hysterical, the best thing to do is agree with them.

"Even so, it doesn't matter if I care or not. We just had amazing sex and now you're crying. You can at least do me the courtesy of telling me why."

Jin was still for a moment longer, before pulling his shirt back over his head and doing up his jeans, rubbing his eyes angrily with the back of his hand. When he spoke, his voice came out strained and forced.

"Whatever this is, Kamenashi, whatever we have... It's never going to be enough for me to open my heart to you."

With one sentence, Kame felt his heart breaking in two.

~*~

The club was dark, seedy, full of the kind of people Ryo felt dirty just _being_ around, a mass of writhing bodies gyrating on the dance floor, scantily clad men and women milling around the bar area eyeing each other up.

Which was where he found Jin.

"Ryo-chan..."

Ryo reached over to pry the glass from Jin's fingers, cringing at the way his friend was sprawled out along the bar, the wood sticky with spilled alcohol, tears staining his face, hand clutching at the air in search of his missing glass. He could almost see the headlines already.

"Noo! My drink!"

"You've had enough," Ryo's voice was firm, his glare harsh, daring Jin to try and argue with him, "I'm taking you home."

Thankfully, Jin didn't protest, just hung awkwardly from the other man's shoulder as Ryo manoeuvred them out of the bar and into his car, dumping Jin unceremoniously into the passenger seat and ignoring his yelp of protest.

Jin was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole ride back to Ryo's apartment, legs pulled up to his chest like a child, chin nestled in the gap between them.

Neither of them tried for conversation, the silence weighing heavy between them, until they were safely inside Ryo's apartment, Jin curled up in one corner of his sofa.

"What's wrong, Jin? Why were you at that club?" Ryo wasn't a moron, everyone knew this. Jin liked to party, liked to drink, but he did it with friends, and in much nicer places than the one the bartender had called him from, having fished the cellphone out of an inebriated Jin's pocket and pried a friend's name out of him.

And he certainly didn't go to clubs simply to get drunk and cry.

Jin continued his silence for a while, staring at his fingers where they were twisted together in his lap. He sniffed, and when he raised his face to look at Ryo, there were fresh tears shining in his eyes.

"I fucked up, Ryo-chan."

Ryo bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue, _'So what's new?'_ and sat down next to Jin, keeping a safe distance after the last time, "What have you done now?"

~*~

Ryo had been sworn to secrecy, and after much begging on Jin's part, had promised not to mention anything to Yamapi, not until he'd given Jin a chance to put himself back together.

The only problem was, Jin didn't think he could.

As early as the next evening, he was collapsing back against the sofa, hand sticky with his release, cheeks wet with tears. He had gotten through the day without Kame, by staying at home, but the repercussions were worse than he could have imagined. Six orgasms, he had wrenched out of himself, until he was red raw, the skin burning under his touch, but still that feeling wouldn't cease, that unbearable _need_ for contact, his whole body throbbing with desire. He tried thinking of Yamapi, but Yamapi always became Kame, he tried thinking of Kame, who made him come harder but left him feeling even more desperate. He tried thinking of girls, men, using porn and magazines, but nothing could make it go away.

Falling into work the next day, eyes bloodshot and legs shaky, he was sent home as soon as he arrived, his band members turning horrified faces in his direction as he croaked out a 'good morning', and Ueda immediately dragged him back out into the reception area to get a car to take him home.

Every moment, he could feel little pieces of himself slipping away. He'd lost everything he ever cared about, heart broken into a million tiny pieces inside his chest, each shard like glass slicing away at him from the inside. More and more he found Kame's face in his head, heard Kame's voice echoing, and being alone in his apartment only magnified it tenfold. Everything Kame had ever said to him was coming back in flashes, from the first time they had met and they had bowed to each other with quiet 'hajimemashite's, their debut with the fierce hugs and whispered 'we did it!'s, to his hiatus, the hard set of Kame's jaw and hissed 'you selfish bastard's, until finally, their secret trysts, and the gasped 'I love you's that Jin couldn't bear to acknowledge.

By that afternoon, Jin could barely move, limp and aching on his bed. His body had reached the point where it had no more left to give, flesh sore beneath his palm, but still he couldn't stop, each erection more painful than the last.

Finally, sometime early in the evening, Jin collapsed back against his pillows for the last time, the whole room spinning as he felt the his overworked, underfed, dehydrated body give up. The blackness was a relief, and he let it take him willingly.

~*~

When word got back to Ryo about Jin's state that morning, he made his decision. Promise be damned, Jin clearly wasn't in any sort of condition to be demanding his silence.

"Pi!" He barked into his phone, "We need to talk."

An hour later, Yamapi was on his doorstep, and if Ryo hadn't spent the previous evening with a sobbing Jin on his shoulder, he'd have said Yamapi looked like death warmed over. As it was, Pi didn't look half as bad as Jin had, and so it was with a gruff, "Get in here," that Yamapi was welcomed into his apartment.

Wasting no time with pleasantries, Ryo launched straight into it, watching as Yamapi took the spot on his sofa that Jin had been in the night before.

"You need to talk to Jin. He's a fucking mess, seriously."

"I miss him so much, Ryo-chan..." Yamapi's voice was pitiful, face showing none of that usual careful blankness he was so well known for, "I miss him every day..."

"Then talk to him, idiot! Go and see him!" Ryo's words lacked their usual venom though, unable to be angry at such a sight.

Yamapi fixed his eyes on a spot on the carpet, gaze unmoving as he spoke, "I can't... He needs to come to me. When he's ready to see me again, he'll come to me... He... He's been cheating on me, I'm sure of it..."

Sitting down next to him, Ryo held out an arm, silently offering Yamapi a hug, and the other man almost leapt on him, flinging his arms around Ryo's waist. It took a moment of getting used to, trying to breathe past the crushing grip around him, but soon he could speak without sounding woozy.

"He was here last night... We talked. About everything." Suddenly nervous, Ryo bit his lip, unsure of whether he should really be spilling all this to Yamapi in Jin's place. He took comfort in the fact that from what he had seen, Jin was in no state of mind to be explaining anything to anyone.

"He told me... He said he'd been sleeping with- with someone else," Names, they could wait, and he only held Yamapi tighter when he felt the other man stiffen up against him, "But Pi, listen to me, he said he didn't want to-" Yamapi scoffed, but Ryo ignored him, "Just hear me out. He said it was like he couldn't control himself, that every second he was there he didn't want to be, but he couldn't stop it. He sounded really torn up, Pi, I think he needs help."

"Needs help," Yamapi snorted, "He fucks someone else behind my back, and _he's_ the one who needs help."

"I'm not joking, I'm really worried about him. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like shit, but he looks ten times worse, like he's not slept since you moved out, or eaten anything either. He looks like a fucking skeleton, it's horrible."

Yamapi was quiet for a moment, before he loosened his grip and sat up, one hand holding onto Ryo's to keep it around him shoulder, "Did he say who it was? Do I know them?"

Ryo didn't answer immediately, but Yamapi must have seen something in his face, because he continued, "He did, didn't he? You know who it is! Tell me, Ryo, please."

He was going to say no, no, that that was for Jin to tell him, but then Yamapi turned those eyes on him again, those wide, desperate eyes, murmuring softly, "I need to know..." and Ryo felt the name slipping out before he could stop it.

"Kamenashi."

Stunned silence, then... "WHAT?!" Yamapi's eyes were blazing now, all trace of fear and sadness gone as if they had never been, "Of all the people, him?!"

In an attempt to calm him down before he could fly off the handle, Ryo pulled the other man back to his chest, holding him in a vice-like grip while Yamapi struggled, "You aren't listening to me, Pi. I don't think he was making it up, he sounded so desperate. He said he still loves you, can't stop thinking about you, but whenever Kamenashi's around it's like something takes him over. He seemed really distraught about it, honestly, he said he didn't even enjoy it any more but he had to, said it was the only thing that got rid of the _need_."

Yamapi paused in his struggles to get free, "Need? What need? You make it sound like it has a mind of its own."

"So did he," Ryo continued, "I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for him, okay? He said he couldn't control it, that he didn't want it, but that it was getting worse every time, and that he hates it and hates Kamenashi a little more too, every time."

"Sounds like he needs a shrink, not me."

"Tomohisa will you stop being such a fucking child and _listen to me_. Jin's not himself, I can tell, and so could you if you'd bother to see him!"

Yamapi jumped a little as Ryo raised his voice, and he must have decided Ryo was serious, because he sat back, features set in their usual calm state, "Okay, okay, I believe you. He's not himself. What are we supposed to do about it?"

~*~

Kame was at home when Ryo and Yamapi turned up uninvited. His was the only place they could think of to go, after having spent a good twenty minutes banging on Jin's door - until the lady next door had come out and told them, rather politely, that if he wasn't answering the door, he probably wasn't home. They had nodded their apologies, and gone to the next best place.

 

Jin, finally asleep after days of insomnia, slept on, his slumber undisturbed.

 

Kame's face dropped the moment he saw who was outside, and would probably have shut the door on them had Yamapi not elbowed his way in.

"Where is he?"

"W-who?"

"You know who, Jin!" Yamapi was furious by now, having spent the majority of the drive across town dissecting all the times Jin had been uninterested, or too tired, or had come home flushed or smelling differently, every little thing that Yamapi had tried to ignore. Now he had someone to blame, now he was face-to-face with the man who had been sleeping with his lover behind his back, and it was only Ryo's hand on his shoulder that stopped him punching Kame square in the face.

The other man's face was as easy to read as a book, any and all acting skills he had acquired over the years deserting him in the face of a livid Yamashita, and he stumbled over his words slightly, unconsciously backing up towards the living room.

"Why would he, uh, be here?"

Yamapi surged forwards, fists clenched at his sides, and Kame stumbled backwards, catching himself on the wall. Getting right up in his face, every word was spat angrily from Pi's lips.

"Don't play fucking innocent with me, Kamenashi. I know exactly what's been going on."

"Jin's a mess," Ryo piped up, voice hard and a face like thunder, but his touch gentle as he eased Yamapi away from Kame, "Why?"

"Wh.. What do you mean, why?" Kame swallowed, blinking rapidly as his eyes flickered back and forth between them like a deer caught in the headlights.

"He told me everything-"

"He's not fucking stupid!" Yamapi interrupted, and Kame startled, "Why would he keep fucking you if he didn't want to?!"

"What?" Genuine shock coloured Kame's tone now, eyes wide and open.

Ryo's glare chilled Kame to the bone. He had always known the other man had a temper, and wished fervently that he had never had to see it.

"He said it was like something was making him do it. He didn't want to, but couldn't stop."

Kame swallowed hard again, things finally beginning to fall into place. Realisation dawned on his face, and he covered his mouth with a hand, crumpling slightly against the wall, his voice quiet and stilted, broken.

"I... I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear... I just... I didn't think it would work, I thought it was just rubbish, I didn't want to hurt him, I swear..."

"What? Kamenashi, what the fuck did you do?"

~*~

_I love you._

Kame's voice echoed in Jin's mind as he started awake, playing over and over again now that he was conscious. _I love you. I love you. I love you._

"Shut up..." he mumbled, curling up under the covers, "Shut _up_."

_I love you, Jin. I love you._

"Shut up!" He yanked a pillow over his head, holding it down over his ears, "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

In the darkness, Jin could see Kame's face behind his eyelids, eyes soft and gentle, sparkling happily at him as his lips mouthed the words again and again, _I love you, I love you, I love you._ Then it changed, morphed in front of him, until it was Yamapi, dead eyes gazing at him despairingly, tear tracks on his cheeks, and now he was saying _I loved you, I loved you,_ repeating it time and time again until Jin was choking into his pillow, body wracked with violent sobs.

He cried until the fabric under his face was saturated, he cried until his throat was hoarse, he cried until he had no more tears left in him, and still he shook, and still he could hear them, both of them, echoing throughout his brain. _I love you, you're mine, I love you. I loved you Jin, needed you, how could you?_

"How could you?"

"I'm sorry," Jin whimpered, the words coming out garbled into his pillow, but Yamapi heard him all the same.

"Bullshit. Even now, you still want him."

If it was possible, Jin sobbed even harder, unable to deny it. Yamapi was right - even now, his body still ached for Kame's touch. He pushed himself up in bed, tossing the sodden cushion off the side of the bed, and rose to his feet. Water, he needed water. His throat was so dry, mouth so parched now it hurt to even breathe, muscles working reflexively to swallow nothing.

"Don't walk away from me."

But Jin has to, needs something to soothe his raw throat, and Yamapi follows him. Kame, too, but he's quiet now, waiting in the background for Jin to go running to him. Water, water, and he finds himself in the bathroom, scooping up handfuls of cool, clear liquid to splash over his face and swallow down. It doesn't get rid of the tear tracks, but the droplets mask them, leaving his reflection staring back at him, face sunken and skeletal, skin taking on a faintly grey hue even in the artificial yellow light. He blinks, drops of water falling from his eyelashes, and Yamapi is there gazing back at him, disappointed eyes sending a wave of guilt and pain through Jin's chest.

"Why? Why did you do it?"

Jin felt his eyes burning again, but couldn't bring himself to look away, "I didn't... I didn't mean to, I didn't want to..."

"Don't lie to me! You wanted him! You _still_ fucking want him!"

He couldn't reply. He was already throbbing beneath his sweatpants, lust coursing through his veins like poison.

"You're the worst kind of person, you know that? You fucked everything up. Kame, you think he wants you?" Yamapi scoffed, "You're a good fuck, Jin, that's all you are to him. He doesn't _love_ you, he's only capable of loving himself. Me, _I_ loved you. You were the most important person in my entire world. Until you did this, until you broke my heart."

Jin felt the tears flowing freely again, running in rivers down his cheeks, but still he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man he loved. He deserved this, he deserved to hurt after everything he'd done.

"I still feel for you, you know," Jin's heart lifted slightly in his chest, only to come crashing down, shattering as Yamapi continued, "I hate you. I've never felt anything so strong before in my life, not even love. I never loved you as much as I hate you now, can you believe it?"

Each sob was so violent, so painful that Jin had to grip the counter to stay upright. He tried to look away now, not wanting to continue looking into those blank eyes, but he couldn't, could only keep on staring into that foreign gaze, every trace of love and affection that had been there before gone, leaving them empty.

"I'm so-rry," he choked out, "I'm so sorry, I lov-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Yamapi shouted, cutting Jin off, "People like you don't feel sorry for anything, they're too wrapped up in themselves. You've only ever cared about yourself."

"He's right," Kame joined in, and Jin couldn't see him, but he didn't have to, "You don't care about anyone else. That's why you're so perfect for this, you're happy to fuck me and disappear, to make me come and then leave. Anyone else would want more, but not you, Jin. As long as you get off, that's good enough for you, and that's all I need. The sex is great, but that's all you're good for."

"No, no..." Jin sank down onto the floor, Yamapi falling from his vision as he closed his eyes, covered his ears with his hands. Distantly, he hears banging, but he struggles to hear anything over the voices shouting at him, berating him.

"Don't be such a baby, it's the truth!"

"Come on, get up, you're so pathetic."

"Look at him, look what a state he is."

"Who could love something like that?"

"Why is he still even here? It's not like anyone needs him."

Jin cried harder, his bandmates' words slicing through him and echoing in his ears, sobs coming louder and louder but nothing would drown them out. He'd lost everything he ever cared about, Yamapi didn't want to know him any more, every moment with Kame only made him hurt more, even his friends didn't want him.

"Get up."

Yamapi's voice cut through the din, hard and unwavering, and Jin felt himself pushing up from the floor even as a far corner of his mind protested. It screamed at him not to, but Jin turned towards the voice anyway, unable to refuse the man he still loved with every little piece of his broken heart.

Yamapi stared at him, blinked slowly, "Do you still love me, Jin?"

Jin nodded desperately through his tears, breaths catching as he forced out a 'yes'.

Yamapi snorted without a hint of amusement, but continued anyway, "You only make things more difficult. You only think about yourself, and I can't live with that. I need you to do one last thing for me. If you truly love me, you'll do as I say."

~*~

The first thing Kame's grandmother saw when she opened the door, was the mess that was her grandson. Kame's eyes were red and puffy, his skin pale and glistening in the moonlight.

"Kazuya, what on earth's the matter?"

 

A hot cup of tea and a stuttered, choked conversation later, and the book was spread out on the table before them.

"I can't believe you'd do something so irresponsible," she scolded, flipping through the pages with the ease of someone who has had years of experience, "I'm very disappointed in you, Kazuya."

Kame nodded sullenly, "I'm sorry, I truly am. I didn't really think it would work, but it did, but not how I thought, and now Jin's-"

"Oh hush, stop complaining and help me fix this. These things never work as you think they will. You silly little boy, did you not read the warning?"

Before Kame could ask what she meant, she was pointing at a tiny paragraph at the bottom of the page he had read the original spell from.

_The result of this spell will not necessarily be "zombie" or "victim" thrall-love; but you will receive ALL the love that person has for you -- which may be less than, as much as, or more than the love you have for them. Accept the degree of love you receive with grace and tenderness. Please heed that a torn soul will only bring despair._

Kame re-read the warning, trying to make head or tail of it. The writing was small and faded, so unless you were looking for it, it was easily missed, and it didn't make a great deal of sense either.

"Kazuya, don't you understand? This Akanishi boy, he is what they call a 'torn soul'. In love with another, but split by the spell. It sounds to me like the only form of love he had for you, my dear, was his-" she paused delicately, "his lust. So that was all he could possibly give to you. But because his heart belonged to another, his love for this other person was too strong, and something went terribly wrong. Magic, magic can't touch the heart, not truly. It can rule the head and the body, but the heart is too powerful. These sort of spells only ever bring pain."

Kame didn't, couldn't, respond, finally realising what a huge mistake he had made.

"We need to reverse this, and quickly. These cases never end well." His grandmother continued flipping through the book until she came across what she was looking for, and set the book down in front of him, "Here, recite this part, but use your Akanishi's name instead. Quickly, now."

~*~

"Jin!"

"Open the door, Akanishi!"

Ryo and Yamapi were probably disturbing the whole building, but they carried on pounding against the door and shouting. They could hear Jin inside, sobbing, shouting nonsense, but he wouldn't come to the door, wouldn't even answer them.

Finally, a large, burly looking man had come out to shout at them, angry at having his sleep disturbed, followed by his wife who, once her husband had disappeared back inside, shoved a cordless phone at them and scuttled back inside.

Ryo dialled while Yamapi continued to bang, ignoring the man's angry warnings, until Ryo hung up, putting the phone down outside the couple's door, and pulled him away and into a tight hug. The apartment was quiet now, not a sound coming from within, and Yamapi shuddered as he cried.

"What if something happened to him, Ryo-chan?"

Ryo hushed him, trying to be the voice of reason, "He probably just fell asleep. He's not been sleeping lately, I expect he's just tired."

Ryo was still trying to console Yamapi when the emergency services arrived, and hurriedly explained the situation, watching as they broke down the door and the paramedics piled inside. Yamapi shot up out of Ryo's hold and followed them, Ryo running after him and listening to his shouts of 'Jin!' as he searched every room of the apartment.

Slamming open the door to the bathroom, Yamapi froze, eyes staring at something unseen for a moment before one of the paramedics eased past him, calling out, "In here!"

"Oh God..." Yamapi whispered, knuckles white where he was gripping the door frame, "Jin..."

He crumpled, but Ryo was there to support him, catching a glimpse inside the bathroom over Yamapi's shoulder. He immediately wished he hadn't.

Blood, there was blood everywhere. Like a small lake, spread over the tiles in one huge puddle, creeping under the unit that held the sink, under the bath. It looked unnaturally bright on the tiles, in the light of the room, and Ryo didn't want to believe that it was real. There was more blood on the counter, marring the clean white surface in streaks and rivers, smudges of it covering the huge mirror above the sink, as if someone had reached out to touch something, and one long streak, as if they had lost their purchase and stumbled, or fallen. A glimpse was all Ryo needed of Jin's body, sprawled inelegantly on the floor, one arm still stretched out towards the mirror. The blood, there was too much blood, surrounding him, covering him, his skin too pale to even hope there was enough left inside him to save him.

Yamapi shook uncontrollably, violent sobs wracking his slender frame so much that it had to hurt, unable to breathe around them, but still, the words kept coming, "No, no, not Jin, no, please no, no, no, no!"

Ryo could only clench his eyes shut against his own pain, holding Yamapi in a grip so tight it had to hurt, and rocked him over and over.

~*~

Months after the funeral, and KAT-TUN's disbandment, Johnny convinced everyone to get together one last time, to hold a concert in Jin's memory.

If any of the fans and reporters noticed the hostility between the rest of the band members and Kame, it was never mentioned, nor was the way he was always a beat behind during the dance steps, nor all the lyrics he couldn't remember. After the concert, he returned to holing himself up in his apartment, skinnier and paler every day until his family coerced their way in and forced some food into him to keep him alive.

Yamapi couldn't bring himself to care about Kame's state, the empty space in his chest that only ached more with every passing day taking up more than enough of his attention. NEWS continued to work, kept on recording, filming, performing, and no-one ever mentioned how Yamapi never even pretended to smile for the cameras any more.

After all, how is it really possible for one to smile, when your smile died along with the only true reason for it?  



End file.
